Back in five minutes
by the doctor's next dance
Summary: Inspired by line of the title which featured in The Doctor Dances. The story of the first owner of Jack's ship, and how she came to lose it as she met a gallant dark haired stranger... One shot PLEASE REVIEW!


**Back in five minutes**

**A/N** Now, the true fans amongst you with incredibly good memories will recognise the title from series 1, "The Doctor Dances", in which the Doctor is criticising Jack's abilities to run his own ship:

Doctor: You can spend _ten_ minutes overriding your own protocols? Maybe you should remember whose ship it is!

Jack:Oh I do. She was gorgeous. Like I told her – back in five minutes.

And that line puzzled me for some time, until I wrote this: the story of that "gorgeous" girl, who Jack ran away from, taking her ship with him…

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She first saw him across a dark, smoky bar. She was sat on a curved seat going around the wall at a small table in the corner, next to a group of raucous men, her head resting on her slumped hand, twirling a glass of a strong see-through liquid around absentmindedly, trying to forget about her most recent gas leak in her ship. She looked up as the door opened and there he was, a tall, dark-haired man with a face that you felt you had seen before. He was handsome, she noticed, as he strode over to the bar and perched himself on a stool, ordering a stiff whisky from the barman, an elderly man. She sipped her drink, looking at him over the rim of her glass. Suddenly he glanced round and blushing she averted her gaze. She reached down into her bag and pulled out a black leather bound manual she was reading on space ship repairs from the 22nd century. She sighed. Even in the 31st century a gas leak was enough to render your ship useless. Funny how things don't change, she thought dryly, flicking to a page about engine repairs, and she held it in front of her, so that her face was hidden from view. However, instead of actually reading the small print, she looked over the top of her book at him, watching him. She was a regular at this bar, and hadn't seen him before, and being curious, she wanted to know who the dashing stranger was.

She continued to spy on him in this way for some time, until suddenly she jumped, as the man got up from his seat, and turning round, made his way straight towards her, a small smile on his face. Hurriedly attempting to focus on her book, she tried to remain unsuspicious as he came up to her.

"OK then, since you won't come and talk to me." The man sidled into the seat next to her, putting his drink on the table with a ring and she noticed from his voice that he was American. He grinned at her. "Captain Jack Harkness." He extended a hand towards her.

Looking up from her book, she set it aside and took his hand gently, trying hard to look innocent. "Claire Moore. And I have no idea what you're talking about." She met his gaze with a firm look, her clear green eyes shining in the gloom of the corner they were in.

He laughed. "Oh yes you do – I've seen you looking at me since I've come in. What you reading, anyway?"

She pushed the book over towards him.

""Space ship repairs from the 22nd Century"?" He read, looking up at her.

"Yes. I'm a pilot for the SSR."

"Oh right." He said, smiling at her. "That's a bit of a strange job for a woman, isn't it? I mean, wouldn't you prefer to be in clothes, or medicine, or administrative stuff?"

She looked shocked. "Definitely not" she said, as she swiped the book away from him. "My father was a pilot, and when I was a little girl he used to take me out in his ship, and I caught the bug. I've always wanted to fly and have my own ship. It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do."

He grinned. "Oh good. I think I'm going to like you Claire Moore."

She smirked, picking up her drink again to take a sip. "You make it sound like we're being thrust together for something."

"Oh, believe me sweetheart, I'd love to get thrust together with you."

She choked on her drink as she heard that, and blushing, decided to pretend that she'd misheard him.

"So, what do you do then, Captain Harkness? I presume from the name that you're something to do with the military, but you know this entire "cash for honours" thing that's been going around." She gave him a playful look as she settled back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest.

He folded his arms in turn, smiling at her. "No, I really am a captain. But I'm a sort of … freelancer. I travel all over the place."

Her green eyes went wide. "Really? Where've you been to? I've always wanted to travel, but the stupid flight path restrictions on this lump of rock are always stopping me from going where I wanted to."

"Well, I've been to Firicia during one of its flares, Titan in the chilling snow and ice –"

"Have you been to Scorzia?" She leant eagerly across the table.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Did a fortnight's training course there."

She gasped with delight as she put her hands to her mouth in excitement, holding them as if in prayer in front of her lips. "Is it really as barren as they say?"

He shifted towards her, seizing the condiments on the table to use as props for his story, to map out the images flickering through his mind. "One night, we were camping under the peaks ……"

The captain and Claire talked all evening, whiling the time away as she listened in round eyed fascination to his stories, narrated expertly with a voice that kept you on tenterhooks as he paused at excruciating points. Gesticulating violently every now and then during a particularly…colourful episode of his travels, the salt cellar was waved round the room as Claire laughed 'till she cried, bit her fingernails in anticipation, and clenched her throat to stop herself from crying. The bar steadily cleared as the night drew on, and soon the barman and two other couples were the only people left in the building.

Finally, as the last two couples stood up and made their way towards the door, slurring and waving from side to side, the barman looked over towards his familiar customer and her new friend. "Hey, Claire!" He shouted out in a gravely voice, one hand immersed in the depths of a glass, a grimy teacloth wrapped around his podgy hand. "You leaving soon or going on 'till morning? I feel like some sleep some time soon."

Claire looked over, still giggling from her companion's latest epistle. "All right, Boris, we're going." She looked around for her manual that she had been reading, parting seas of vodka shot glasses and mugs in her hunt.

"This what you're looking for?" The captain produced her book easily from where it had been next to him. Sighing, she reached out for it, but just before her hand closed around the cover, he moved it away. "Uh uh," he said, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, "you're not getting away that easily from me. What about you take me back to your house and we finish the story?"

She cocked an eyebrow as she snatched the book out of his hand. "What about your house? Surely you can't just invite yourself back to a complete stranger's house."

His eyes cleared as he focussed them directly on her, and Claire suddenly felt her heart leap, and all her nerve ends tingle. "How can you be a complete stranger to me when I feel as if I've known you all my life?"

Claire froze, one hand closed around the book half way into her bag.

"Besides," he continued, as if nothing had happened, "I've got no home to take a nice girl like you back to. And I won't press advantages, don't worry." He grinned. "Unless you want me to, of course."

Making a scolding sound, Claire rose to her feet, and grabbed her jacket from next to her, and swung the brown leather around her shoulders. She grabbed her bag and took a step towards the door. "Well?" She asked, her short brown hair catching the light of the dim bulbs that hung from the roof of the bar. "You coming?"

He hardly needed to be invited twice.

They walked back through the dark streets of the city up the steep hill that stood on the western side of it, both mimicking the other, their hands deep in their jacket pockets. Jack was continuing his story, but his voice faded away as Claire announced "Ah, here we are. Home sweet home."

"But, this is a spaceship?" He asked. "Latest design, every home comfort on board, but -?"

Claire nodded, shrugging her shoulders. "My home. Wanna' see inside?"

"Love to." He grinned, following her on board as she opened the hatch with a press of a silver device in her coat, and then clambered into the belly of the ship.

It was dark in there. That was the first thing he noticed. And it was a mess. Cables hung everywhere, some taped to the ceilings to keep them out of the way by bright yellow tape, panels flickered and images rotated on them, conveying information that to everyone else would have been a load of gibberish, but to Claire it was her native tongue. She immediately clambered round to the captain's seat and flicked a few switches, muttering "just turning the central heating on", and sure enough, Jack felt his chilled fingers thawing slightly within a few seconds. Red lights glowed dimly around the edges of the ship, and the more your eyes got accustomed to the dimness, the more you saw. Hatches, windows, portholes, cabinets, cubby holes and tunnels abounded, all covered with a mass of bits and pieces that could only be found on a woman's ship. Having settled the temperature of the ship, Claire then pulled off her jacket, hung it over the arm of the seat and scrambled round to turn up the lights, then rooting in a cupboard, pulled out a kettle, and fitting it into a panel to her right, began to boil it. Jack watched on in amazement at her, busy at work in her ship, so cramped yet so simply _brilliant_. It was everything you could ever have wanted, for you could never have got bored in there. And, more importantly to the captain, he could tell with a single glance that the engine would be strong enough to power someone out of the galaxy in less than half an hour.

Claire turned around, running a hand through her hair. "Sorry, I never thought. You wouldn't prefer something more alcoholic, would you, Captain?"

He laughed. "I think I've had enough of that for the while, at least. And stop all this captain nonsense, I'm not your commander, am I? It's Jack."

"Alright then, Jack." She tried the name out testily, and it seemed to please her. "Two sugars or three?"

They were soon sat around the captain's seat, Claire curled up on the control board, having carefully disabled all the controls just in case she turned anything on accidentally, and Jack sat at his ease in the captain's chair, continuing his story. When they were finished, he took a long drink from his mug of tea, then broached the subject she was most willing to talk about. "So, how long 've you had this ship?"

She wrapped her hands around her own mug, leaning forwards eagerly. "Two years. She's been my closest friend, and my home since I bought her. She's second hand, but she's good enough for me."

"She looks good in condition." He looked around the room appreciatively, smiling at all the flashing lights and whirring sounds being emitted by various panels.

She patted the control panel happily. "Pretty much. Her wings are in perfect condition, almost too good to be true, and her engine's faring well – in fact everything's rosy apart from the gas leak." She pulled a face.

" '_The gas leak_' ", he echoed, as if it was a historic event.

She laughed. "Yep. I mean, I've fixed a couple in my time, I had to completely mend one from scratch for my license test, but I've read every book and manual I can lay my hands on," she gestured to her bag, "but d'you think I can fix the blighter?" She shook her head.

"Well, let me have a look at it." He jumped to his feet, setting his mug down on the first vacant and horizontal surface he could find. "I'd like to be able to do something to help."

She set her mug down too. "Oh would you? If I can get that fixed then it'll make such a difference to her flying."

He smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

When Jack opened the main hatch on the front of the ship, he could see what the matter was immediately. Steam bellowed out from the engine as he opened the hatch, and he coughed, waving it away with his hand. "See what you mean." He called out, rolling up his sleeves. "Haven't got a spanner in there, have you?"

Claire disappeared into the ship and re-emerged moments later, the tool in her hand. Handing it over to him she pointed into the maze of pipes. "The central fuel tanker's the main catalyst. It ruptured a while ago and things have gone from bad to worse since."

He grinned at her, a light shining in his eyes that was not very often seen. "Claire Moore, you're really not your everyday girl, are you?"

She looked at him. "I guess that's what happens to you if you live in a spaceship for too long."

He laughed, turning back to the task in hand.

He worked for some time, his arms up to his elbows almost continuously emerged in the depths of the engine. Claire was offering him helpful assistance, fetching tools for him and watching interestedly as he worked. Every now and then their hands met as they both reached for the same tool, and their eyes caught, before one of them looked away. Jack could feel his heart thumping, and he wasn't happy. It was just typical. Here he was, trying to con his way into stealing a ship, his passport out of this planet and timeline. He had seen within a few moments that with the right adjustments and the correct hand, this ship could be turned into the world's finest time hopping ship within a few hours. He had the right education, as a time agent, to turn pretty much anything into a time travelling machine, and he needed to get out of this year and head for somewhere new. The plan had been simple: find a ship, steal it, change it, and then, quite simply, bugger off into the distance, and it had been going swimmingly. He'd found a ship, he'd decided it would work, but then there had come the flaw. The owner was supposed to mean nothing to him, merely a pawn in his game to fly away. Sadly, he'd chosen poorly in his choice of pilot. He'd chosen Claire, and, in short, in the short time they'd spent together, he'd felt happier and more at home than he had in a long time. "Far too long a time", he thought, as he looked across at her as she handed him a plug. Damn. He, Captain Jack, seducer extraordinaire, was in love. Oh hell….

Finally, the work on the engine was finished. Jack looked up, wiping his hands on an oily rag and beamed at his companion. "That should do the trick," he said.

Claire rubbed her hands gleefully. "Excellent." She pronounced. "And now you, my dear captain, deserve a drink." She produced a bottle of champagne from just inside the door, and popped it expertly. Jack laughed as she arched her eyebrows at him. "Girls can do it just as well as boys." She said, waving the bottle at him. "Now come on. There's something I want to show you." She went back into the ship, and curiously, Jack followed her, tossing the rag aside.

Claire led him up through a hatch onto the roof, and he steadily climbed out to join her, marvelling at the resulting view they got over the city. The bright lights shone in the night sky, and the dark hills and mountains rolled around them as Claire filled a glass and handed it to him. They clinked their glasses and drank, looking around them happily. Claire was the first to finish, taking a deep breath of cold night air. "God, sometimes I feel as if I'm the luckiest person alive."

"It certainly is a breath taker" he said, looking across the city and then turning to her. "As are you." He added, in his usual gallant manner.

Claire laughed. "Me? Look at me. I'm covered in oil from head to toe ninety per cent of the time, I don't dress as the others do, I don't even live like they do." She shook her head. "No, I'm an oddball me."

Jack looked over her. Her glossy hair hung around her face, her high cheekbones catching the light of the moon, her eyes glimmering in the starlight. Her dark green top clung to her curves, as her tiny waist flared out at her hips to her dark trousers. And beneath the trousers, as only a connoisseur with such experience, such as Jack, could only notice, were long legs, excellent thighs, and an arse that anyone would be proud of. He grinned. If only she looked at herself properly, surely she'd see what a beauty she really was. Suddenly, he shook his head. Oh God, this wasn't helping. It was ruining the whole plan. Forget her, forget her, his head pleaded, whilst his heart thrummed with love and longing for this woman he'd only known a night.

At that moment, the radio they'd turned on whilst mending the gas leak decided to play an old wartime tune, one that had been played so many centuries ago that it was a miracle the radio was still playing it. But such a song could not be forgotten, it was so beautiful, and both knew it well. Jack had a penchant for 1940's music, and of course, Glenn Miller came right under that category, highlighted and underlined in bold. As the opening notes of "Moonlight Serenade" swayed and sashayed their way across the air to them, Jack looked down to her hand, hanging limply by her side. As much as his conscience clamoured for him to do the opposite, to step away, to let it go, for it would make what he had to do all the harder, he took a breath as he set down his glass and reached out for her hand, threading his warm fingers through her own cold ones. She spun around, her eyes wide, and he took a step backwards, holding their joined hands out between them. "Care to dance?" He asked softly.

Claire set down her glass too and stepped towards him, her eyes gazing into his and not losing contact. Tentatively she put a hand on his shoulder, her fingers almost shaking as she made contact with the cotton of his shirt, but as soon as she did, she felt as if they were _right_ to be there, and she relaxed her hand, her palm fully pressed down on his shoulder. She jumped a little as he put a hand around her waist, but his hand found a hollow she hadn't know had been there, just the right size for him, as if it was made just for his hand, and then they were dancing, swaying from side to side, caught up in the music, the night, and each other. Throughout the whole dance she kept her gaze looking right up at him, looking into his eyes, just as he looked down into hers. Claire felt nervous, yet excited and exhilarated at the same time. Her stomach flipped as she searched his handsome face. Oh God, now she'd done it. Complete stranger, man she'd only known a few hours. She was in love.

The song came to an end, and Claire found herself almost shaking as he brought up a hand to cradle her head on his shoulder. His soft hair tickled her nose and she breathed in the scent of him. God, was it possible to feel like this? Suddenly his voice brought her back to reality. It was shaking, and was taught, as if he was withholding something that threatened to take over him, as much as he tried to speak nonchalantly. "Claire," he said, licking his lips and swallowing, "you know you said you'd like to travel? Where would you go, if you could go anywhere in the world?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Everywhere, I suppose. And now the engine's fixed, well…I might even be able to get out to Racorous Bay next weekend." She beamed. "I haven't been there since I was a child, but you make the beaches sound so enticing that I just have to get back there again."

His heart lifted a little, but there was still doubt. "Would you leave this place, Claire? Up and go and never return?"

She moved her head so she could look properly at him. "What d'you mean?" She asked.

Jack could only look at her and then, before he could stop himself, before that pesky conscience of his could grab hold of him and glare at him until he submitted, he surged forwards and claimed her mouth in a kiss. She was cool beneath his touch, and as he burned her with his kiss, she burned him back, suddenly firing up and leaning forwards to kiss him back.

They parted when the need for air was too strong to stand up against any longer. Her hands were on his shoulders as they rested their foreheads together. "Jack…" She muttered.

"Claire, I –" He reached down for her hands and kissed them. "Your hands are cold." He enclosed his own warm ones around them.

They were silent for a while, just soaking up being together, but then Claire spoke. "What did you mean by that, Jack? By "up-ing and going", and never returning?"

"Would you Claire?" He asked her, his gaze persistent. "Would you?"

She shook her head in confusion. "I, I don't know, I mean, I'd need time, I suppose."

"You said you wanted to travel, though. See the universe."

She nodded. "Yes, but to never return? My life's here, my friends are here. This is my home."

He tried one last method. His voice was plaintive and quiet as he said "But what if you were going with me?"

She was shocked by that. Her heart stopped, and her lungs stopped remembering how to breathe. For one glorious moment, she felt as if she'd say yes, say yes to this handsome man, say yes to step into his adventures with him, to leave all this behind her. But then one image flashed though her mind and she knew she could never go. She remembered her father, the last time she'd seen him, yesterday evening, sat at his home amongst all his space ship and flying memorabilia, reading the newspaper. He had seemed content, but Claire knew that apart from her, his only daughter, he was alone in the universe. She could never leave him. And so, her lungs burning as she took a deep breath, she stepped away, her face going into shadow. She shook her head. "No, Jack. I thought I could but….. my father… he's got no one else in the world. I couldn't leave him, even if I – "

He nodded his head sharply, trying to put the hurt and pain he felt behind him. "Of course, I understand perfectly." He ran a hand through his hair. Right, that was that. She'd said no. There was nothing he could do. _Unless you _stayed, said a little voice at the back of his mind. But no, he couldn't. With the time agents still after him after their recent… rendez-vous…, and with half of the Secret Police intent on catching him, it was a case of leave or pay the consequences, which were likely to be a long holiday in the local prison, or at the worst, if the time agents got him, torture, and subsequent death. Rubbing a hand across his chin, he made his way towards the hatch to inside. Claire swore, and followed him.

"Jack! Jack!" She cried, clambering feverishly through the mess of the control room, bursting out through the main hatch to the outside. He was stood on the hill side, looking down over the steep cliff to the city. His head was bent, his eyes were closed and his hand was over his mouth as he willed himself with all of his might to have the strength to go on and do this, to finish what he'd started. Claire reached him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jack…" This time her call on his voice was softer as she turned him round to face her. "I'm so sorry, it's just that…."

"No." He stopped her, shaking his head. "I understand." He took a tremulous breath, resolving himself. It was now or never; he'd lose the will to do it and he'd be stuck here forever, hiding here with her, running the risk of his life and hers. He couldn't do that, he couldn't put her in danger. He had to look to the future, he'd always managed before on his own, he'd always used people to get where he wanted, so why should it be so different now? Of course, he knew very well why it was so different. But there was nothing he could do.

"Jack, I – " Just as he was about to speak, Claire's voice struck the air. He looked down at her, to see tears dripping down her face. "I – "

"I love you too." He said, fiercely kissing her one more time, feeling his own hot tears mingle with hers on their cheeks. Then he drew back, and looked over the beautiful woman one last time. Nodding his head to himself, he took a step backwards. "Back in five minutes." He said, trying to be as calm as possible, but he couldn't stop the thundering of his heart. Tearing himself away from her gaze, he walked towards the ship and climbed in. He closed the hatch behind him, seeing in his mind her confusion as she tried to work out what he was doing. He started up the engine, sitting in the captain's seat as he wiped tears from his face, seeing her shock and horror as the ship came to life. And then, with a start the ship flew off with a burst, its engine roaring into life as he shot towards the stars. His throat was hoarse as he tried to breathe evenly and stop the tears, focussing on what was in front of him and not behind. He had had to do it, he had had to leave. He would never forget her, but he had to go.

Claire was left alone on the now empty hillside, crying out for him as her space ship vanished into the distance. Captain Jack Harkness had gone, and he had taken her heart with him, as well as her ship. Has she been conned? Had he been pretending to love her just for the ship? Somehow, she knew it was not so. No. She had been tricked, yes, but not willingly. He had his own reasons for needing to go, but she knew he didn't do it maliciously. "Back in five minutes", he had said. Somehow she found that hard to believe, but still, she would wait for him.

He would come back for her.

He _would._

**A/N** Please R & R! If this story made you smile, laugh, or made you feel any kind of emotion at all, please review! 'Tis only fair! Thank you!


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